


Pay Your Dues

by Huggle



Series: Pay Your Dues [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abused Castiel, Dark Winchesters, Evil Winchesters, Gen, Human Castiel in the Bunker, Hurt Castiel, Sexual Slavery, Slave Castiel, Slavery, Suicidal Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 12:45:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5248703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huggle/pseuds/Huggle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel knows he has a lot to make up for and now he's human it will be harder than ever.</p>
<p>The Winchesters know it too, and they won't let him forget it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The handcuffs sat cold and heavy around his wrists. 

Castiel wrenched at them, even though he knew he couldn’t escape, and winced as they tore his skin.

He turned in a slow circle, eyes scanning the trees for any sign of movement. It probably wouldn’t take long. The Wendigo was out there, likely had his scent by now, and would be tracking him. He wondered if they would both be lucky tonight.

The Wendigo would feed and he would have a way out.

When he heard it lumbering towards him, branches snapping as it gave into its blood lust, he wanted to run at it.

He should have.

But his body seemed to have a mind of its own and he found himself backing up desperately. He stumbled, something snagging his feet, and then he went down roughly with his hands pinned beneath him.

The Wendigo snarled and lunged at him across the clearing.

But it had barely got within a few feet when a flare sparked from cover and slammed into its heart.

Castiel watched it fall, thrashing and smoking until the fire caught and its flesh charred.

Hands grabbed him roughly and hauled him to his feet. The handcuffs were jerked away, and Castiel rubbed his wrists.

A hand ruffled his hair, a mocking gesture of reward, and then he was left to follow behind as they made their way back to the car.


	2. Chapter 2

They were still maybe thirty miles from the bunker, and it had been a long drive. Dean spotted the sign for the diner, Sam didn’t disagree, and so ten minutes later they were sitting in a booth at the window, halfway between the fire exit and the door.

Sam had pushed him into the booth first, and sat close enough that he was pressed hard against the glass.

“We should think about extending the phone bank,” Dean said as he glanced at the menu. “I nearly screwed up that call from Port Tor for Gerry. Wildlife service, CDC…not much fucking difference.”

Sam chuckled at him. “This is why I put labels on each phone, Dean. You just need to remember to _read_ them before you pick up.”

“Whatever, bitch,” Dean said. He slid the menu across to Sam, but his brother waved him off.

The waitress, an older woman with her blonde hair tied up in a bun, came over and took her notepad from her apron.

“Well, boys, what’ll it be?” 

Dean ordered pancakes, Sam asked for toast, and then the woman glanced at Castiel.

“What about you, honey? You not eating?”

“Yeah, honey,” Dean said. “What about it? Don’t you want anything?”

The waitress had been smiling at them, but it faded quickly. She looked from the brothers to Castiel, and her face darkened.

“Honey, you ok?”

Sam’s hand was on his leg suddenly, fingers squeezing like a vice around his thigh.

“I’m fine,” Castiel said. “Just a little travel sick. Thank you, but I’d prefer not to have anything.”

The woman didn’t look convinced but she did return to the counter and passed their order back to the cook.

“Good boy,” Sam said. He gave Castiel’s leg a pat before he let go.

Dean stared at Cas until he looked back. “You keep that up,” he said. “You don’t do anything to get her attention, and maybe when we get home I won’t beat the shit out of you. No promises, though.”

“Dean,” Sam chided. “You can’t punish him unless he actually does something to deserve it.”

“Says who,” Dean said.

Castiel sat in silence as they ate and laughed, but every now and again he caught the waitress looking at him, suspicion in her eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

They wouldn’t let him cook.

Sam said it was because he didn’t really know how, and mused about teaching him.

Dean said it was because he didn’t want Cas around the kitchen knives, or to have access to their food. Just in case he got any bright ideas.

But there were plenty of other things they found for him to do. If a case needed research, they shoved him in the library, locked the door behind him, and left him there in the cold room until he’d found what they were looking for.

They forced him to go through the unexplored rooms in the bunker one by one, clearing them out and cataloguing anything that they might find of interest.

He did the laundry, the day to day cleaning, anything they couldn’t be bothered to do themselves.

The only other thing he wasn’t allowed to do was anything involving the Impala.

Dean had caught him trying to sneak it out of the garage not long after everything changed. If Sam hadn’t come to see what the noise was, Castiel supposed Dean would have choked him to death on the hood of the car.

He couldn’t speak for days afterwards, and Dean kept deliberately standing close to him to make him flinch.

He’d quite enjoyed that, provoking involuntary reactions from him.

He still did.

Castiel supposed he should be grateful they let him have a room, even if the door was locked each night. 

He was glad for the lock, though. It was noisy, when the key turned, and that always woke him.

It meant that whenever Dean decided to come and just stare at him in the darkness, Castiel was always aware. 

The thought of Dean standing there watching him while he slept was more than he could take.


	4. Chapter 4

The hunter was an old friend of Bobby’s. Castiel didn’t know his name, but he reminded him of Bobby, which was why he shouldn’t have been surprised at the older man’s reaction when he dropped to his knees in front of him.

“What the hell are you doing, boy?”

Castiel risked a glance back at the brothers. Sam couldn’t look up, his cheeks flushed, but Dean…Dean stared right back at him, and there was the promise of pain in his eyes.

“Hey, it’s a joke, man, right?” He pushed an easy tone into his words, but Castiel had always been good at reading him.

This wasn’t his fault, but later when they were alone Castiel knew it would be somehow.

He rested his hands on his thighs, waiting. No one had told him he could stand.

“You got a weird sense of humour,” the hunter said. He looked down at Castiel as he spoke. Castiel wished he would look elsewhere, because he didn’t want Dean provoked any further. It was going to hurt enough as it was.

He wasn’t expecting strong hands to fasten around his arms and bring him to his feet.

“You’re that angel, aren’t you?” the man said. He leaned in a little, his voice a whisper. “Castiel. Bobby mentioned you a few times.”

Castiel didn’t dare to answer. If he was careful, Dean might not carry out his favourite threat and dislocate his fingers.

He’d only done so once, but the pain had been so bad Castiel had fainted.

Sam had put them back into place, and admonished Dean for his actions.

How much use would Cas be with dislocated fingers? How could he fetch or carry things? Turn the pages of any books he needed for research? 

And obvious injures brought attention.

Dean had watched as Sam strapped up Castiel’s fingers. He’d pointed out that no one cared about a pathetic former angel who’d done nothing but screw up every single thing he’d ever touched.

And it would stay that way, if Castiel had any sense of self preservation, because Dean would kill him rather than let him be taken away from them, be _saved_. 

This was Castiel’s perdition, and no one was coming to raise him.

Bobby’s friend glanced over Castiel’s shoulder at the Winchesters. “If you haven’t got the money to pay for the book, I’ll take payment in guns,” he told them. “My tastes don’t run to guys.”

Castiel could feel Dean’s stare hot and heavy and hateful on his back. He leaned forward a little, desperate.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please just take what they’re offering you. Please.”

The older man stared at him in horror. “Son, I can’t do that. Are you for real?”

Dean was there without warning. He yanked Castiel back, drawing a protest from the other hunter, and told him to shove the book.

It might have been worth Castiel, but it certainly wasn’t worth any of their weapons.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean made him hurt so badly that he couldn’t move afterwards. Even the thought of it hurt, and so he lay there, locked alone in the dark. He wondered if he pushed Dean far enough, would he snap? Would he go too far and after a moment of excruciating agony, finish him off?

He was desperate, but he wasn’t sure he could be brave enough to try.

The irony of how relieved he’d been when he’d finally reached the bunker wasn’t lost on him. Cold, hungry, weak and afraid, and yet he’d been better off on the streets and had never known it.

He hadn’t known it for the first few days, sure the distance between him and his friends had been down to the awkwardness of the circumstances. The transgressions he’d committed. The trust he probably had to re-earn.

He’d never imagined the sanctuary he’d fought to reach would become his prison, a place of torment he couldn’t escape unless that escape turned out to be permanent and from everything.

The more he thought about it, the more he was sure Dean couldn’t be provoked to that level. Dean was smart; he would spot any attempt at goading him to murder before Cas could probably even make him raise his heartrate.

Dean might not kill him but he would definitely make him suffer.

When he heard the door swing open, he was too hurt to move. Dean would come in and do what he wanted to do, or just stand there and watch him in threatening silence.

It took him a moment to realise he hadn’t heard the key turn in the lock, which was impossible because Dean had locked the door after he’d left.

“Hey, little brother.”

Castiel couldn’t look up. He was…dreaming, except he wasn’t asleep. Hallucinating then. Dean had clearly hurt him badly and this was the result.

Because the alternative simply wasn’t possible.

Then Gabriel was standing over him, a half smile on his lips. “You always had a knack for inviting trouble, Castiel. This was why I had to keep such a close eye on my fledgling. Guess I dropped the ball, there.”

“You’re dead,” Cas managed, but he kept his voice low. He didn’t want Dean to know he was awake. “Please leave before he hears you.”

Gabriel’s eyes darkened. “You don’t have to worry about it, Cas. I promise. I’m going to pick you up now, little brother. Can I do that?”

If he was imagining this, then he’d either gone insane or was perhaps dying. Either way, he would probably be beyond Dean’s reach shortly so what did it matter? 

He nodded, and then he was in Gabriel’s arms, and he felt his brother’s Grace flood into him. The pain ebbed and receded and with it any doubt that his brother was actually there.

“Gabriel,” he whispered. “It is you.”

Gabriel held him tighter, and then with a flutter of wings they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it weird to have written a story you actually weren't happy writing?
> 
> Anyway, it was to fill the following prompt over at SPN Kink meme:  
>  _After Cas falls and ends up without his angelic powers, Dean and Sam decide he's of limited use now._
> 
> _They use him as bait on hunts, as a slave when they're between jobs. If they need money, they turn him out in bars, to other hunters, to anybody really. They just won't let him leave, keeping him in between them and the wall or window at diners, not letting him go to the bathroom on his own, giving him no chance to escape._
> 
> _But really, where would he go?_
> 
> _Lucifer or Gabriel being the ones to rescue him please.  
> _
> 
> A/N: in my head, I saw Bobby's friend as being the one to somehow clue Gabriel in as to what was going on with Castiel. No idea why or how, I just liked the idea that Bobby was fond of Cas, and maybe had asked his other hunter friends to look after his three boys if anything happened to him.


End file.
